Perfection
by TheShippyQueen
Summary: John Bates' life had been anything but perfect, and lying in bed, he thought wryly that life had only really started going his way when he met her. For she alone made everything in life worthwhile, she alone had taught him that the world doesn't have to b


_A/N: Written before all the spoilers for S2 were made available, this is my interpretation. If you want to remain spoiler-free, then please do read, just try not to guess what is spoilery and what isn't! :D xxx_

**Perfection**

John Bates' life had been anything but perfect, and lying in bed, he thought wryly that life had only really started going his way when he met her. For she alone made everything in life worthwhile, she alone had taught him that the world doesn't have to be a cruel and bitter place, in fact, in can indeed be perfect.

He hadn't meant to fall in love with her, not really, he'd thought her pretty and a sweet girl, but he'd never intended love. Love was for people who deserved it, love was for those who life treated well, love was not for the likes of him.

He found he thought of her often, wanted to see her smile, hear her talk, wanted just to be near her…but he wasn't in love, he wasn't allowed to be in love.

The past was always one step behind, always there, like an unwanted growth, a permanent reminder of mistakes gone by, mistakes that seemingly could not be undone and refused to be forgotten. Just when he could begin to think that life could be good, the past would rear up its ugly head and laugh scornfully in his face, sending him scuttling back into his own internal shadows. Life was not meant to be good for him; he just had to deal with that.

Until Anna.

He couldn't love her, couldn't have her the way he wanted her, she was out of reach, even though she constantly held her hand out to him, he just couldn't bring himself to take hold. It was a sorry battle between the past and the future with him stuck in the middle, slowly being torn apart. But she was always there, always willing to keep trying, he pushed her away time and time again and still she was there, a constant, a light, a beacon. She made him feel things he never knew existed and despite the past, despite an unenviable future, she held on, slowly pulling him to safety.

The change came with the war.

He was too old to serve, too battered to fight, and the shame of his past still lingered making him too tarnished to be of any use. But he knew all too well the price of war. It was there every single day, a sharp, stabbing reminder of everything that had gone wrong for him. There was to be no respite from his past, his mind and body would not allow it. Yet, he'd paid his bill over and over again, and as war was declared, John Bates made a pact with himself that his life had to start all over again.

He'd known all along that she was good for him, that she could be the making of him; he just knew he could offer her nothing in return. He'd gently tried to push her away, tried to discourage her attraction to him but it was never of any use, he realised that he'd never wanted to push her away, not really, it was an outward display of what he thought was propriety, but inside, inside he wanted to cling onto her.

So, the night of the garden party, when war had been declared, John Bates had taken that first, life altering step to freedom. Now, five years down the line, he smiled to himself, remembering the shy, nervous way he'd declared himself to her. He recalled her stunned expression followed by that beautiful smile that erupted across her face and for the first time in his life, he'd known he'd made the right choice.

"You love me?" she'd asked, her voice full of disbelief.

He'd nodded, unable to hide the smile threatening to engulf his face. "Yes, I love you."

She'd given a soft shake of her head, her smile wide, but the disbelief and uncertainty still plain across her soft face. "What's taken you so long?"

He'd chuckled softly at his and reached out for her hands, taking them carefully in his own. "Me."

"What's changed?" she asked, looking at their joined hands.

"Everything," he'd answered simply. "The world…you…me…everything."

"But….?" her question, unspoken, lingered between them and he squeezed her hands gently.

"I'm still married, yes," he'd admitted, thought it pained him to do so. "But, I will sort it; I will be free, for you. If you still want me?"

She'd smiled up at him then, "John Bates….I've been chasing you for two years, desperate for a single word from you…..what do you think?"

He'd ducked his head and grinned, lifting her hands to his lips to kiss them softly. Even now, he could still remember that first time he'd pressed his lips against her soft hands. "It won't be easy."

She'd removed one hand from his and lifted it to his cheek, "I know…but we're in this together now."

Those words had lifted him, taken him to a place he'd not experienced before, to know he wasn't alone, that no matter how hard life might become, he was not alone, she was there, by his side and they would win.

xXx

He hadn't kissed her that night, not properly. He'd held her hands, kissed them lightly but he'd not pressed for more. Anna would ask him, when they were married, why he'd not done so and his answer had been honest.

"I was afraid I was pushing my luck. A kiss seemed a step too far."

Instead the first time they had kissed had been a few nights later. Still in the heady rush of a new, delicate and secret relationship, they had snatched moments together whenever they could. But the war and the busy household, mixed with their own fears made them nervous and jittery at any given noise. Finally, one night, just before bed, John had waited for her as she'd blown out the lamps in the servants' hall.

She'd come to him, smiling cheekily and they'd taken their chance. His hands had cupped her face and he'd met her eyes, slowly drowning in their beauty. They'd both leaned in, heads tilting slightly as finally their lips met. It was one of John's most favoured memories. He'd indulged himself with her, learning everything about her lips as he kissed them, learnt their taste and texture and he made sure he kissed her with every ounce of love he felt. He'd taken a risk and slid his hands around her waist, holding her to him gently, not wanting to frighten her. She'd been anything but afraid, her hands had moved around his neck and slowly, he'd encouraged her lips apart, softly gliding his tongue across them before entering and introducing himself to her tongue.

It barely lasted a minute before he pulled lightly away, afraid to push things with her, she'd seemed disappointed but he'd rested his forehead against hers, kissed her nose lightly before whispering, "Goodnight."

In his room that night, he'd realised that kissing Anna was perfection indeed.

xXx

He was always painfully aware that his relationship with Anna was dangerous, he was still married and they were both employed by Lord Grantham where relationships between staff were forbidden. If they had been caught then they would have both lost their positions and John was in no situation to support them. He knew they had to take care and he had to find his wife.

Finding her had been easy in the end, she'd actually wanted him to find her, what was more difficult was ending things with her. She was reluctant to let him go, since they had been children back in Ireland, she'd always been the one in control and even now, their marriage shattered at their feet, she didn't want to lose control of him.

She refused a divorce, said she'd never been unfaithful to him and even had the nerve to suggest they make a go of their marriage. He'd tried everything, frustration and anger getting the better of him, he'd thrown money at her, seen the best solicitors and still she would not yield. Defeated he'd returned to Downton, broken and lost.

Anna had tried to be supportive, she'd promised him that they would sort it, but he could see no way this could ever be sorted. He'd told her it was over between them, that he couldn't offer her anything and that she should move on from him and find happiness elsewhere.

It was not his finest hour, in all his past mistakes, that had been the worst. Breaking Anna's heart.

Sometimes that memory came back to haunt him, even now, when things had actually worked out, it still came for him and it always consumed him. He heard her sobs, walking had never been so difficult as it was that night, as he walked away from her.

xXx

Somehow, even now John couldn't understand it, but somehow, everything had worked itself out. His wife, never one to remain in one place for any length of time, disappeared again without a trace. John had been helpless, he'd lost Anna and he had nothing and no-one to turn to. His downfall seemingly complete, he almost hankered for the days of prison – anything to rid him of seeing Anna's daily anguish.

When the letter arrived, he'd thought it must be a joke. The letter was from a doctor in Scotland. It seemed a woman, believed to be his wife, had been admitted into a hospital in Edinburgh in the final stages of consumption. She had died shortly after her arrival but had given the staff there his name. The feelings this news elicited had him in turmoil. It meant he was now free, but at a price. He'd lost Anna in the process.

xXx

Looking back, he couldn't help but feel his heart swell with pride when he thought of how his Anna handled herself during that time. After her initial breakdown in the yard, she'd pulled herself together and carried on with dignity and grace. Though she lost weight and her face lost its sparkle, she never once allowed anyone to know just how deeply hurt she was. She didn't speak to him unless she had to and she always did so with politeness and a hint of cool courteousness. She was lost to him, a barrier between them that would never fall.

When news of his freedom had sunk in, he realised that all he wanted in his life was Anna. Nothing else made him happy except her and he'd decided (somewhat foolishly) to make amends. Still thinking back on his folly not only made him laugh but cringe at his own stupidity.

"Can we talk, Anna?" he'd asked her, one night after they had finished dinner.

"If it's about his lordship's riding crop, I'll have it ready by tomorrow," she'd answered, polite but cool as always.

"No, it's not about that," he said softly. "I want to talk about us."

Anna had scraped her chair back noisily and flung him a furious glare, "There is no us," she'd hissed.

"Anna…" he'd touched her arm briefly and she'd leapt away from him as though he'd tried to hit her. She looked at him with suspicion, all the time trying to keep her dignity intact. "Please? Just for a few minutes, I won't keep you long."

For whatever reason, she'd agreed, following him into the yard, arms folded protectively across her chest. She'd refused to meet his eyes and realising he would just have to say it, he foolishly did.

"I love you, Anna."

Her laughter had been harsh, forced, bitter. "Is this a joke?"

"No, I mean it," he'd continued. "I'm sorry about what happened….truly sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I was trying to protect you."

She made a noise of derision, clamping her arms even tighter about herself, focussing upon the wall to her right, doing anything to avoid looking at him.

"So, that makes everything alright then, does it?"

"No, no it doesn't," he'd answered softly, stepping closer to her. "It doesn't even come close, but I want to make it up to you."

"You want to make it up to me?" she'd said, voice dripping with sarcasm and disbelief.

"I made a mistake," he tried. "I was wrong."

"Yes! Damn wrong!" she exclaimed, eyes flashing with anger as she looked at him for the first time. "Am I just a toy to you?"

"What? Anna, no-"

"Is that all I am? A game? Something you can put down and pick back up whenever you feel like it?"

"Ann-"

"Do my feelings not even matter?"

"Of course-"

"They can't! You wouldn't treat me like this if they did! You just think that a few words and everything will be alright again? Do you think I'm that desperate? You broke my heart!"

"I know-"

"Do you? Do you really? I don't think you do! I don't think you have any idea how hurt I was, am! I loved you, John, loved and trusted you and you…," her voice wobbled, "hurt me."

"Anna, I wish I could say or do something to make this right….if I could take it back, I would."

"Well you can't!"

"I'm not expecting you to forgive-"

"Good! Because I can't! I can't forgive you!"

"Anna-"

He'd reached out for her hands but she'd yanked them away, tears threatening to fall, "How dare you, John," she'd whimpered. "How dare you even think this can ever be alright again?"

xXx

It had taken him a lot of time and effort, but he'd done it. Slowly, painfully slowly, he'd earned her trust again. His new found freedom had unfettered him from the past and instead of seeming slow and chained down; he was lighter and happier than he'd been for a long time. The only thing that kept him down was Anna.

He'd tried everything, flashing her a smile whenever he could, walking by her side at any available opportunity, trying to engage her in conversation at dinner and revelling in success when, bound by the rules of civility, she'd been forced to talk back.

He'd kept it up, constant without being too overbearing. He could sense she was tiring of it, but not in a negative way. One day, he'd appeared in the doorway of Lady Mary's room and watched her and Ethel as they made the bed.

"Ethel, Mrs Hughes is looking for you," he'd said, only a small lie.

"Really?" Ethel had asked, worry clouding her face. "What've I done?"

"She said something about eating scones in your room at night?"

Ethel's eyes widened in horror. "No, no, no! I haven't!"

"I don't know, but you'd better hurry and find her!"

Ethel flew out of the room in a panic and he'd flashed Anna a wolfish grin.

"That was unkind," Anna had stated, though her eyes danced with mirth.

"Maybe. But it will teach her for making that rude joke about William last week."

"Ethel isn't blessed with tact."

He'd stood watching Anna in admiration as she'd carried on making the bed. She didn't speak and neither did he until finally, Anna could seemingly take no more.

"Was there something else, Mr Bates?"

"No, no. Just admiring the view," he'd answered, turning on his heels and leaving the room as quickly as he could.

"What are you up to?" she'd asked, rushing after him, matching her step with his.

"Nothing."

"It won't work," she'd said firmly.

"I don't know what you mean."

He'd moved on to writing letters, slipping them into her linen pile, placing them under her plate and even, once when he felt incredibly bold, placing one into her apron, as she wore it.

Every letter said the same thing; every letter was a declaration of love for her, a long apology and plea to allow him to make it up to her.

She would try and hide her smile, occasionally pushing the letters back at him but he would always send them back to her until eventually she stopped trying to give them back. He took that as a good sign.

He'd even resorted to sending her little gifts, anything to try and win her back. And slowly, slowly she'd relented. Their friendship returned first and with it, the ability to speak to each other, openly and honestly. Anna had told him just how deeply he'd hurt her and he had promised that he would do anything to take it all back and make things right with her.

"I still love you," she'd admitted one evening. His heart had soared at those words, hope starting to flicker in the distance.

"And I still love you," he'd replied. He'd reached out and taken her hand, holding it lightly, and softly stroking his thumb across the back of her hand. He'd expected her to pull away, but for ten delicious seconds, she left her hand in his before finally sliding her hand away.

"This doesn't change anything," she added hastily.

"But it does for me," he'd answered. "It gives me hope."

It had built from there, slowly, day-by-day, growing through friendship into love as it once had. She would stand near him, let him hold her hand and finally, let him lean in and kiss her once more.

Their relationship progressed, the trust between them restored and John still thought of himself as the luckiest man not to have lost Anna completely.

He'd made so many mistakes in his life and been given chance after chance, but this time, he was determined that he wasn't going to spoil things. He courted her correctly, took her out whenever they could, would let her link her arm in his and always acted like a gentleman towards her. He was determined to do things right by her, she deserved nothing less.

The day he proposed was one of the happiest of his life.

He'd planned it for some time, going over and over in his mind what he should say, where he should say it and how he should say it. Nervously, he'd played out every possible response she could give him and though he knew she loved him, he was afraid that marriage was not what she was ready for.

After a few false starts, caused mainly by Mr Carson changing the duty rota, he'd finally secured a half day that coincided with hers. He'd suggested they go somewhere together and she'd happily agreed, he was determined that everything should be perfect.

He took her to Harrogate where they had walked around, arm in arm, gazing into the expensive shop windows. They passed the famous baths and then, as the afternoon wore on, he had taken her for refreshments at a tea room he could only just about afford. Then, they'd walked along the Strand, Anna's arm in his and they'd admired the beautiful tree lined paths and for the first time they'd felt truly alone and free. They were like every other couple walking together through that fashionable area; they were just two people in love.

Finally, he'd taken his chance and brought them to a stop beneath a beautiful old oak tree. He'd waited whilst a nanny passed pushing a baby in a carriage, he was about to speak when once again he was forced to wait whilst a governess scolded two young boys who had broken free from her grasp and were racing across the grass behind them.

"John, are you alright?" Anna had asked him, a little look of bewilderment upon her face.

He'd turned back to her and smiled, balancing his cane upon his arm. Pausing a moment he'd taken hold of her gloved hands in his and slowly, removed each glove from her hand.

"John?" she'd asked in amusement as he pushed her gloves into his pocket and took hold of her hands once more.

"You know I love you?"

She'd laughed, "Yes! Of course I do, what's all this about?"

"Anna," he'd paused, trying hard to find the words and choking back his emotions. "I love you, and I know I've made mistakes, terrible mistakes, but I do love you. You are the reason I get up in a morning, I'd be nothing without you."

"Hey," she soothed, freeing one hand from his to stroke his cheek, "what's all this?"

He removed her hand from his cheek and squeezed it tightly, "I know I don't deserve you and I know I am the luckiest man alive to have your love."

"John-"

"You know I'd do anything for you, don't you?" he asked, a little worriedly.

"Of course-"

"And, I'd do anything to make you happy?"

"John, what's all this about?"

"I know I'm the one to gain everything from you and I know I have so little to offer you…"

"John," she'd clutched his hand tightly. "John….you have everything to give me, now are you going to tell me what's brought all this on?"

"I love you," he'd said simply, kissing her knuckles lightly and closing his eyes to the emotion, "so very much."

"John, you're starting to worry me now!" she'd said with a nervous chuckle.

"Will you marry me?"

"What?"

He'd grinned and ducked his head, "Anna, will you marry me?"

The grin had spread across her face, a soft blush following in its wake. "Are you being serious?"

"Yes, Anna, I love you, marry me."

She'd given a little shriek, much to the annoyance of a passing elderly couple and thrown her arms around his neck. "Yes!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

His cane had fallen to the floor as he'd wrapped her into a hug, burying his face into her neck, as elation, pure elation filled every vein. She was to be his wife.

"I love you," he'd murmured into her neck.

They'd both shared a few tears of happiness then and held each other, right there beneath that great oak tree on the Strand of Harrogate. He'd thought he would die from simple happiness; his life was finally going right.

He'd been clear that he wanted to do everything right, for the first time in his life he would do everything right. He'd told Anna he would visit her father (much to her amusement) and ask him permission to marry his daughter.

"John, I'm almost thirty! He won't object!"

"Even so, I want to do this right."

And so, a few days later, he'd nervously found himself sitting in the kitchen of Anna's family home, her father sat in his armchair by the fire in stunned silence. A large, burly farmer, deeply tanned from hours spent outside, the poor man had wept as John had asked him for Anna's hand in marriage. He'd assumed that he'd not see Anna married and though he was happy, he felt sadness at losing "his Anna" to John.

Mr Smith had made John wait as he regained his composure; he'd had to sit awkwardly in the kitchen until finally (much to John and Anna's relief) he'd happily consented to the match. Anna's mother had bustled in from the adjoining parlour where she claimed not to have been listening but congratulated John all the same. She'd quickly made a celebratory cup of tea and by the time John had left, she was talking to him like a long lost friend and had begun making plans for the wedding.

His next task had been to speak with Mr Carson and Lord Grantham. He'd been surprised to find that his relationship with Anna was something of old news; it seemed they hadn't been as careful as they'd first assumed. Mr Carson had explained that though it wasn't ideal, their relationship had not impacted onto their work and he had nothing to reproach them about, therefore he'd simply let them be.

"Maybe I'm going a little soft around the edges in my old age," Mr Carson had chuckled wryly.

His lordship was far more practical; he congratulated John and immediately asked him what his future plans would be. John had awkwardly explained he hoped he would be able to remain in his position as valet.

"Of course you can, my good man!" Lord Grantham had exclaimed. "I wasn't referring to that! I was thinking more about where you intended on living…"

Lord Grantham went on to make them a very generous offer. He offered them a small cottage that had been empty for some time in the grounds of the estate. It had recently been renovated by Mr Crawley's new scheme and was now in desperate need of new tenants. John had not been able to thank him enough.

Everything was finally going his way.

xXx

Their wedding day had been everything he'd ever dreamed it would be. The sun had been shining and though he felt nervous as he walked to the church, it was a good kind of nerves, the kind that hint of great times ahead.

She'd looked beautiful. He could still see her now, walking down the aisle on her father's arm. She'd smiled the whole time, her eyes fixed upon him and for a moment he was certain that everything else disappeared, it was just him and Anna.

"You look….beautiful," he'd breathed as she arrived at his side.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, she glowed with happiness the whole day and he'd struggled to comprehend that she was now his wife, that they were together and that the world was finally being kind to him.

They spent their first night together in their new home. He'd arranged for them to go away for a few days to Scarborough after the wedding, but their first night as man and wife was to be in the cottage that would be their home.

Still wide awake, John chuckled to himself, remembering that first time. They'd both been nervous, the closing of their front door signalling that they were now alone, for the first time, they were truly alone…and free.

He'd wanted to make sure everything was right, that he gave her the first night she deserved, but he had to confess; it had been a little frenzied that first time. He'd led her to their bedroom and taken time to undress her, savouring every inch of her, admiring her soft skin and her slender figure.

His own desire for her had quickly taken command and when they finally united as one it had been rapid and a little ungraceful. He'd been careful not to hurt her as he destroyed her virginity but both their actions after that had seemed rather uncoordinated.

As the night progressed, they had made love again, taking time to savour each other, learning what they both enjoyed and it was the most wonderful experience of both their lives.

Later they had lain in each other's arms, both unbelievably happy that finally, finally they were husband and wife and could love each other without the past baying at the door. It was the start of their life…a rebirth.

xXx

That had been almost three years ago and now, still wide awake, he once again thanked all his lucky stars that his life was as perfect as it actually was. Since marrying Anna, life had been nothing but happiness.

They had a lovely little cottage that Anna had decorated beautifully, making it truly their home. She had remained working at Downton, under the understanding she would leave service once a replacement was found and she had been all set to leave, hoping that by that time she would be expecting their first child.

A replacement was finally found and trained up and so Anna's job at Downton came to an end, however, she was still not pregnant. For Anna, married life without a job took time to adjust to, especially as, every month; Anna's (and John's) hopes of a baby were dashed.

He'd known she was upset by the lack of a baby and was worrying herself unnecessarily about it all. He'd tried to talk with her, but such topics were hard for him, as a man, to discuss, even with Anna.

One day last June, John had news for Anna; Lord Grantham was travelling to London with the family for the season, the first time they had done this since the war. It meant he would be away from home and from Anna for eight weeks for the first time in their marriage.

Anna had been devastated at the news.

"I know you're upset," he'd said softly as they lay in bed together that night. She had turned away from him, the minute he'd turned out the light. Curling himself up against her, he'd known straight away she was crying silent tears.

"I'm not upset," she'd answered, the wobble to her voice betraying her to him.

"Then why are you crying?"

"….I don't know." She had half-laughed, half-sniffed at this.

"Anna….you know I love you," he'd murmured, burying his face against her neck, inhaling that wonderful scent of her.

"Of course I do!" She had turned around in the bed so that she was facing him and had wrapped herself against him, clinging to him as if her life depended on it.

"I don't want to leave you," he'd sighed against her hair.

"I know."

"Being away from you will be the hardest thing ever."

"Yes…"

"I'll be back before you know it."

"I suppose," she'd agreed reluctantly.

"I'll miss you every day. I'll write to you. And when I come home…I'll make it up to you."

"I'll miss you."

"I love you."

Then, he'd proved it by making love to her, slowly and tenderly. His eyes locked on hers the whole time as he moved in her. Shortly before dawn, he'd woken her and made love to her once more, a beautiful farewell to his darling wife.

Whatever else had happened, he did something right that night for on his return, Anna had news.

xXx

Becoming a father had been a wonderful experience. He'd enjoyed every minute of it all, from the moment she had told him she was expecting, her face glowing with happiness until the moment, four weeks ago, when he'd spent an agonising morning listening to the sound of his wife in labour, and finally heard the welcome cries of a newborn baby.

The minute he had held his daughter in his arms, he knew his life was finally complete, that perfection had finally been reached. It still made him laugh with giddiness, even now.

"You keep laughing."

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked grinning into the dark. He moved and wrapped himself around his wife, moulding himself to her and pressing kisses to her neck.

"Hmm…it's a good thing you're a wonderful man, John Bates…" she murmured sleepily.

"It's because I have the perfect wife," he said to her neck and pressing a long kiss against her temple. He looked up and over Anna at the cradle by the side of their bed, the shape of their sleeping girl just visible in the darkened room. He leaned over and gently rocked the cradle, before stroking his hand softly across her mop of dark hair. "And baby girl."

"You'll wake her!" Anna scolded softly.

"I won't….she's just too perfect," he'd sighed, softly withdrawing his hand and trailing it back across Anna, lightly stroking at her hip.

"I'll remind you of that when you pretend to be asleep whilst she cries the house down," Anna said, grinning into the darkness.

"I don't pretend to be asleep!" His tone was indignant though he was grinning too.

"Why were you laughing?"

"I was just thinking about everything….you, me, the past," he answered, sighing as he pulled her closer. "Are you happy?"

"Do you really need to ask me that?" She turned in his arms and gazed up at him.

"No, but I like to hear you say it," he replied, kissing the top of her head.

"I am happy," she said, punctuating each word with a kiss, moving up his neck to the corner of his mouth. "So happy. Are you?"

"Perfectly so, you make me the happiest man alive." His heart fluttered a little at the sight of her gazing up at him, her eyes full of love. He dropped light kisses to her lips and whispered, "You, you are my everything. I love you."

"I love you too," she sighed, settling herself against his chest.

He squeezed her tightly, closing his eyes firmly and grinning widely against the top of her head. Life with Anna was perfect, deep down he'd always known it would be. If only he hadn't been so foolish as to hurt her, if only he'd been honest and open with her, then, they may have had their perfection sooner. Though she would always maintain that he had more than made amends for his foolish mistakes, deep down he still felt some need to continue to make it up to her, he was certain he would spend the rest of his life trying to put right his wrongs. He would walk to the very ends of the earth for the perfect life with Anna. She really was his everything.

"You're still grinning," she stated, mirth evident in her tone.

"As long as you are in my arms, I can't help but grin."


End file.
